Tolkien Fever
by D'Euly
Summary: When Tolkien's stories infect Hogwarts students. Written for a challenge from the PPC board. A one-shot.


Disclaimer:  Far be it from me to pretend to own anything belonging to the great Rowling and the (much greater) Tolkien!  In fact, I own nothing at all in this fic.  The characters belong to the aforementioned great ones, and the plotbunny was the fruit of a challenge on the PPC board.

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                Trees.  Stretching as far as the eyes could see.  Light piercing the foliage and pointing to the fallen leaves, lying cool and limp on the forest floor.  Tiny golden flowers pricking through the layer of death to shine in imitation of the sun.  The girl sat on a mossy rock, feeling its slimy cold and absolute solidity.  This was a world of extremes – where nothing was modified by humans, but left to run its course the way it should.  Men adapted and endured.

                A breeze began to stir, and the girl's hair began to blow about her face.  This was the way it should be.  She was a child of the forest.  She did not belong inside stone walls.  Her skin tingled at the feel of freedom.

                She got up and moved quietly among the trees, hugging to herself the rustle of leaves under her bare feet, the rough impassive tree trunks.  A tiny sound reached her ears, and she was off, rushing past rocks and crouching under low branches till she fell on her knees beside a tiny stream.  She reached in and thrilled to the cold water, raised her hand to her lips and tasted the clear drops.  

                And then, still kneeling beside the water, she heard it – the song of her beloved.  It was like the shock of rain in the morning, of the first star appearing on a cloudy night; it was the wind in fir trees in autumn and the wild glory of gulls at dawn.  Every time it came as if for the first time, as if she had never heard that sound, never conceived that the world was able to bear such beauty.  She could hardly bear it herself.

                She raised herself from the stream and ran towards the voice – she dared anyone to hear it and not do the same.  As it got closer, the joy overwhelmed her, and she stopped, heart thudding in anticipation.  Her breath came short as through the trees, the sunlight lit upon a lissome figure.  And there _he _was, fairer than anything she had imagined, like a constantly leaping and changing flame, like his song incarnate.  His shoulder was turned to her, but as she watched his head moved, and she knew he was aware of her.  A shock stiffened his body – that _he _should react to _her _like that! – and he turned with a face alight with the same joy that was in her face, and they ran to each other, two leaves in the wind, and reached out for each other.  He had stopped singing and she would have cried for the absence of the music had she not known that he would speak instead; he looked into her eyes:

                "Miss Patil, would you care to answer the question I have asked you?"

                Parvati jerked upright, badly startled.  "Legolas?" she blurted, then came to herself.  The knowledge that she was inside those stone walls she deplored, shut inside her own life, in a classroom, with an extremely irritated Professor McGonagall directly in front of her, slammed into her head.  As she reviewed the last words she'd heard, and her response, she bit her tongue and turned bright red, and listened to the inevitable snickers around her that soon turned into a roar of laughter.  Parvati was startled – Hogwarts students weren't known for their kindness, but surely the Professor's presence would have held some order.  She looked up and saw, to her amazement and ever-increasing embarrassment, that the Professor herself was having troubles keeping a straight face.  She dipped her head again and dug her nails into her palms, willing herself not to cry.  Her face felt as if it was giving off a palpable aura of heat, and her throat was constricting.  

                There was a loud "Ahem" from above her head, and she realized Professor McGonagall had finally gotten a hold on herself.  The class fell silent, though not as quickly as Parvati would have liked.  

                "Miss Patil, I do apologize; I know I cannot compare with the object of your dreams," this produced another storm of giggles. "But I really must insist that you bring your mind back to the world of Transfiguration for another twenty minutes.  Look at the second paragraph – well, the _rest_ of the class has advanced to page sixty-three – and please tell me what is necessary in order to begin the process of mammal transformation."

                Parvati hastily turned to the right page and scanned it quickly, coming up with a passable answer.  Professor McGonagall moved on, and Parvati sunk back into her chair.  Another twenty minutes of boredom, and then the teasing would begin again.

                It happened just as she'd thought.  The minute the class was dismissed, the giggles and talk broke out.  "Oooh, Legolas!" one of the boys behind her – she thought it was Dean Thomas – wailed.  Seamus walked past her and said "Hey, Patil, is that why you won't go out with me?  My ears aren't pointy enough?"  Guffaws came from the back of the classroom, and Harry, Ron and Hermione, the perfect threesome, walked towards the door.  She could see Ron and Harry laughing – and Hermione, her stuck-up dork of a roommate, looking superior.  As always.  

                She shoved her books into her bag and pulled it over her shoulder, heading for the door, when she heard the Professor's voice cut through the noise.  "Mr. Thomas, put that mouse down at once and go to your next class.  Miss Patil, come up here, please."  

                Parvati winced and obeyed, receiving a slightly confused but sympathetic look from Lavender.  That nearly broke her.  Even her best friend couldn't understand why she was so fascinated – 'obsessed' was the word everyone else used – with these books.  She'd seen the first movie with a Muggle friend over the holidays, and couldn't rest till she'd read all three of the trilogy, then _The Hobbit_.  Her parents had gotten her a copy of _The Silmarillion_, but the last thing she wanted was for another Tolkien book to arrive and provide the entire Gryffindor table with another morning's worth of amusement.  She'd have to wait for the Christmas holidays.

                "I'm very sorry, Professor," she began, before Professor McGonagall could say anything.  Her lips narrowed, and Parvati knew her plea hadn't worked.  She looked down at the desk between them.

                "Miss Patil, this is the fourth time this week that you have been so inattentive in my class, and I know that the same has been occurring in all of your classes.  I heard from Professor Flitwick just this morning.  This cannot go on!  You are a good student, but that will do nothing for you if you continue to dream instead of working."

                "Yes, Professor.  I'm very sorry," she repeated meekly.  An unbidden thought, about the similarities between Flitwick and Figwit, crossed her mind, and she had to bite her lips to keep from laughing.  The image of Professor Flitwick attending the Council of Elrond…

                "Miss Patil, you will attend detention tonight.  Report to me here at seven."  The glare she received made plain that the Professor had not missed her momentary lapse back into Middle-Earth.  "Now hurry along to your class."  Professor McGonagall turned back to the papers on her desk, and Parvati hurried out of the room.  Blast, blast, blast.  Detention, and she'd be late to Divination, and even Professor Trelawney would be annoyed with her.  And no doubt, when she appeared in the classroom, the whole room would be silent and turn to look at her and explode with giggles once again.

                She was right.   

***

                At seven o'clock, Parvati headed off to the Transfiguration classroom, gloomily tugging on the end of her braid and wondering what new boredom McGonagall would have in store for her.  At least she hadn't taken away any House points.  Harry and Ron would be furious with her for losing Gryffindor points – as if they hadn't been the ones to lose fifty points _each _the year before.  Just because they had gained the points back at the end of the year, everyone was so proud of them.  Parvati and Lavender were apparently the only ones with wit enough to remember who lost the points in the first place.  "Sure," she muttered, "break even, but do it spectacularly, and everyone will love you."  And Hermione!  Complaining nonstop about the two of them the first couple of months, boring the entire dorm to death, and then suddenly becoming best friends with the two stuck-up twerps.  She was such a hypocrite, too – looking down her nose at Parvati for reading Tolkien all day, when the day was yet to come that Hermione herself didn't have her nose stuck in a book.  "Just because it's fiction," she said furiously to herself as she arrived at the classroom and walked in.

                Professor McGonagall was grading papers, and looked up primly when Parvati came in.  "Sit down," she said, and Parvati silently obeyed.  She turned back to her work, and Parvati sat looking idly at the cages of animals that lined the walls.  

                This continued for a few minutes, and Parvati was beginning to wonder if she was meant to do anything at all during this detention, when the door opened and Professor Snape walked in.  He looked even less pleased than usual, and Parvati gulped.  He was followed in short order by Professor Figwit – Flitwick, she reminded herself sternly.  The two teachers pulled up chairs on either side of McGonagall and Parvati found herself facing what only resembled a firing squad.

                Professor McGonagall's beady eyes pinned her to the chair.  "Miss Patil, your other teachers and I discussed the problems that you have been having in our classes.  We have decided that we would like to hear you tonight tell us exactly why you find this set of movies so much more intriguing than your schoolwork."  The expression on her face as she said 'movies' made her look like she'd just swallowed a lemon.  

                Parvati gulped.  She was supposed to sit here, facing these faces (one glaring, one irritated, and one kindly but confused, as if trying to humor a mental patient) and explain Tolkien?  She couldn't even do that to her friends!

                "Miss Patil, what patience I once had for this endeavor is fast running out.  You have wasted my time in the classroom and you are wasting more of it now.  I suggest you start talking.  Now."  

                Parvati was jolted into action by Snape's last word.  She started talking.  "Well, you see, there was this ring forged by Sauron, the Dark Lord, you see, he put all his power into it, and he tried to attack the rest of Middle-Earth – the men and elves – they're not like house-elves, you know, they're really – well, it's really hard to explain what they are, they're tall and beautiful and-"  She looked at her teachers' faces and blushed.  This wasn't working.

                "I…I can't tell it right.  The reason I love the story is because of how it's told…You'd have to read the book to understand."

                "Then read us the book, Miss Patil," Flitwick suggested kindly.  She looked at him gratefully – this was better than trying to tell it in her own words.  Without looking at the other two teachers, she pulled the first book out of her bag (the last time she'd left the trilogy in her room, she'd found it displayed in the common room under a crude sign) and opened it.  She flipped to the Prologue, glanced up at Snape, decided to skip the entire Prologue and start with Bilbo's birthday party.  

                "When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday" – Snape snorted loudly, and Parvati turned red again, but kept reading – "with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton."  By this time, even Professor Flitwick was looking bemused, and as Parvati read over the first sentence again, she had to admit that it sounded rather…childish.  But it got better soon!  She read on.  The revelations about Frodo, the 'tweens', and the translation of 'eleventy-first' singularly failed to impress her listeners.  She decided to skip the description of the Gaffer in the tavern, and read the arrival of the dwarves and Gandalf.  She sneaked a glance at the teachers to see that their expressions hadn't changed, and skipped the pages of description about getting ready for the party to jump to the description of fireworks (one of her favorite parts) and then Bilbo's speech.  

                She suddenly realized that none of her listeners had heard about the Ring yet, but decided to plough along.  It would all come clear soon.  Bilbo made his speech, and after every funny bit in the text, there was a noticeable lack of laughter from her audience.  Parvati was beginning to have a bad feeling about this, but she couldn't do anything but keep reading.  Bilbo disappeared, the hobbits were startled and angry, Frodo was silent.  Bilbo slipped off to Bag End and had his farewell conversation with Gandalf, and set off along the road with the dwarves.  Parvati toyed with the idea of singing his song, and then thought better of it.

                She skipped to Gandalf's final foreshadowing words and abrupt departure.  Turning to chapter II, she looked up again and saw two faces looking as disapproving as she had ever seen them.  Flitwick just looked rather bored.

                At this point she began to despair of ever making anyone understand why she loved Tolkien so much, and decided to read exactly what was written, every word.  If they got bored, well, they could tell her to stop reading.  They would never understand anyway.

                Time went on, shadows appeared in the tales at the Green Dragon, and Gandalf returned.  The long conversation between Gandalf and Frodo started, and the Ring was finally getting a little explanation.  Gandalf told Frodo that Sauron, the Dark Lord, "has indeed risen again and left his hold in Mirkwood…always, after a defeat and a respite, the Shadow takes another shape and grows again."  She took another look at her teachers.

                "That is enough," Professor McGonagall snapped.  Her lips were tighter than Parvati had ever seen them.  Snape's eyes flashed.

                "That is more than enough.  I find it hard to believe that you would waste our lesson time on such drivel.  How much more of this is there?"

                "Two more books, and then there's the..uh…the prequel, sir," Parvati muttered.  She hadn't been expecting shouts of praise, but to hear Tolkien called 'drivel' was more than any fan could take.

                "Give them to me.  You will spend no more of your time on this nonsense," Snape ordered.  

                Parvati gaped.  They couldn't take away Tolkien.  They couldn't!  "Sir…I promise not to daydream any more…couldn't I have a second chance – next time I daydream I'll give them to you with no arguments…"  Snape slowly rose and towered over her.

                "I don't believe I ever allowed you to argue with me, Miss Patil.  The books.  Now."

                For one wild moment, Parvati considered taking the books and running – defying Snape – cursing him – anything!  But Professor McGonagall stepped in.

                "Miss Patil, you heard Professor Snape.  These books will be confiscated until further notice.  Don't look like that, girl, you'll get them back eventually."

                Parvati slowly bent to her bag and produced all of Tolkien.  She caught a glimpse of Legolas on one cover and winced, shoved that one on the bottom of the stack, and put them on Professor McGonagall's desk.  At a nod from Snape, she picked up her bag and stumbled out of the room, her eyes filling with tears.

                Inside the classroom, Snape sat back down.  Flitwick turned curiously to his colleagues.

                "I didn't really see that the situation called for all that, Minerva," he said mildly.  "They seemed a fairly harmless collection of fairy tales to me."

                Professor McGonagall's eyes widened.  "Harmless?" she repeated.  "Filius, have you forgotten what happened last year?  Fairy tales these might be, but they're coming to life around her.  'The Shadow takes another shape and grows again'?  Do you want this girl running around the school telling tales like this?"

                "The book calls him the Dark Lord," Snape spat.  Both teachers turned to look at him, trying to hide their fear and revulsion – the Death Eater in Snape's past was very much in the room.  He ignored them both.  "Are there any more copies of this in the school?"

                "I'll speak to Filch," Professor McGonagall said.  "He'll search them out.  I'm sure they're not in the library, though, and Parvati's classmates seem to find her attraction humorous.  None of them share it, at any rate."  

                Flitwick's eyes had widened.  "I hadn't thought of any of that.  Good Lord.  You're right, of course.  This can't be allowed.  I'll take the books back to the Restricted Section."  He reached for the pile of paperbacks.

                Both McGonagall and Snape said "No!" sharply, then looked at each other just as sharply.  Flitwick, arrested in midair, looked curiously at the two.  

                "The Restricted Section is not secure enough," Professor McGonagall said.  "I shall keep them in my office."

                "Students are in and out of your office all day," Snape objected.  "They'd really be safer in the dungeons."

                "My office is quite secure, thank you, Severus," McGonagall said coldly.  She reached for the books.  Severus leaned forward, intercepting her arm.

                "Minerva, think of the impact this could have on the school!  Rampant paranoia – they'll start seeing the Dark Lord around every corner!  I must have them down in my office."  There was a short silence.  Snape's eyes flicked to his two colleagues, who were looking at him curiously.  "I have the welfare of the school at heart," he said.

                Professor McGonagall reached around his arm.  "Really, Severus, they will be fine with me.  I am quite aware of the danger they present."

                Snape reached forward; their hands touched the pile at the same time, knocking the books across the desk.  Both teachers looked at Professor Flitwick, who was surveying them with undisguised confusion.

                "Why don't you…that is, Filius, would you mind going to speak to Filch about this issue?"  Professor McGonagall said.  "He needs to know and act immediately.  Searching all the dormitories will take quite a while.  Perhaps he'll need you to help him," she added.  "We'll sort this issue out here."  Flitwick nodded benignly and hastened from the room.  

                McGonagall and Snape sat looking at each other.  Their eyes met and fought.  There was a long silence.  Finally McGonagall broke it.

                "You may have the book for a week.  I will have it starting Sunday."

                There was another long silence.

                "Agreed, Minerva."  

                Professor Snape snatched up the books and left the classroom in a swirl of robes.


End file.
